


Lunarium Dreams

by Lodke



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-05-19 23:16:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19365709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lodke/pseuds/Lodke
Summary: Read ANOP and you want more of potential possibilities flowing through your head? Step inside the many lives that the fevered dreams of Rayla experienced while trapped within the Lunarium.Did they really happen? Or are they just a dream?Spin-off of A Narrative of Power.





	1. Sprint

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck," Callum's face ran with tears as he tried to staunch the bleeding of the wound. Why, why had she had to stand up to the muggers. He pushed hard on Rayla's chest, trying to ignore the flowing red blood that bubbled around his fingers, the gasping breaths she took with wide and pained eyes.

 

Her hands clutched feebly at him as she struggled to get an ever more elusive breath. Her eyes bored into his, trying to tell him something that wouldn't come.

 

Callum's scream tore from his throat, "Help!" he sobbed trying to hold in blood that wanted to overflow from her wound like water pouring over a damn, "Help!" His voice was raw and it pained him to yell, but he called out more and more.

 

Nobody came though, nobody was around. The night was late and the sky was dark. Not even Rayla's beloved moon shone above, just the silent and ominous stars. Pinpricks of dispassionate white light silently watching on as another persons life slowly seeped out across the asphalt. Another victim of a crime gone wrong.

 

Goddammit though, she was his person, she was his light.

 

He tried to sob more, to scream more, but the words didn't flow, his voice was gone.

 

Callum watched as her eyes rolled up in her head and her already ivory skin was turning pale, pale, pale mimicking the death shroud that would cover her face, a ghostly apparition.

 

The world did not weep, there was no rain, just the distant sounds of the city all about them, sirens, cars, conversations, a baby crying. It was strange how he could hear all of these things, but nobody heard him screaming.

 

"This is a terrible fate that has befallen you." The voice was deep, thick and warm, "That poor girl is going to die unless somebody does something."

 

Callum spun, not taking his hands off of Rayla's bleeding body, he mustered a voice again. A rasping request, "Help, help her, call an ambulance, do something. They took our phones, I-I can't move her."

 

The man with voice like black silk walked closer, his features angled and smooth. Beneath the hood of a black sweater covered with a black leather jacket, he seemed to emerge from the darkness of the alleyway in the late night, "I can help her, for a price." Too white teeth smiled broadly in the night.

 

Callum couldn't believe this man, wanting money to help her, "Anything! Anything I have, just help her!" The man must be a junkie looking for his next fix.

 

"Don't be so easy to give away what you have, you may not like what losing it makes you." The man smiled, crouching next to Rayla. Her breaths were growing shorter, shallower. How much longer did she have?

 

"Whatever it is!" Callum urged, "Help her, please!"

 

"But of course," The voice held no sense of urgency, no panic at all the blood on the ground before them,   the man's feet in his sandal's by Rayla's head.

 

With a flash and flourish there was a knife in the man's hand

 

Callum held up his hand, "What-What are you doing?"

 

"Helping." the word drawled out through a smirk and the man's hands moved Callum's from the wound. Callum resisted at first but then the man's strength became overpowering. The gleaming knife pierced poked a hole in Rayla's chest, cutting through her tank top.

 

Rayla didn’t even move.

 

There was a rush of air.

 

Callum watched on, confused.

 

The man then took a pen from his coat pocket, holding the knife in place, and then bit the end of the pen, pulling out the innards leaving only a plastic tube, which he then slid in past the knife.

 

There was a sudden rush of air and Rayla's breaths became deeper, more gasps.

 

Astounded, Callum asked, "What did you do?"

 

"She had a collapsed lung, a tension pneumo-listen boy- a tension pneumothorax. You'll have to tell the doctors that at the hospital." Callum was entranced, this man's smooth features not like an addicts at all, "You take her to the nearest one. She'll need antibiotics and likely some minor surgery."

 

The man stood and headed deeper into the alley, his sandals leaving their bloody footprints on black asphalt.

 

"What's your name?" Callum asked, starting to scoop the limp Rayla up into his arms, "How will I pay you?"

 

"You will pay me," The man's dulcid tones carried despite the noise of the surrounding night, "When she lives, I will know if she survives."

 

"A-and your name?"

 

The man paused before turning down the next bend of the alleyway, for the first time Callum noted that his eyes glowed a haunting deep  blue, "Aaravos."

 

And like that the mysterious figure was gone, and Callum's feet pounded out of the alleyway, the limp Rayla in his arms, begging anyone and everyone to point him towards the nearest hospital.

 

He never gave another thought to the price he would have to pay.


	2. Black Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit, do not read if that is not what you are looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A piece of intimacy I wrote that I deleted, but due to a particular fan endorsing it, I am putting it up here. This is my contribution to the smut-dom of TDP. 
> 
> This is an explicit piece, please do not pursue if you are not seeking that type of fic.
> 
> Originally set to be part of A Coffee of Power, I decided the story should go a different direction. Enjoy.

"Black lights? Really?" Rayla scoffed as she walked into Callum's room of his house, leaving the thumping base and raucousness of Soren's end of the year party behind. The din became a muffled white noise as he closed the door behind her, "What are you, fifteen?"

 

"I like them," Callum said defensively, swirling the drink in his solo cup, "It's like they reveal a whole other world."

 

"Well," Rayla smirked at the artist, "At least I know you don't fancy yourself Jackson Pollock."

 

"Wha-?" Confusion crossed Callum's face, but then understanding set in. His face twisted in a disgusted laugh, "Aw, that's gross."

 

Rayla laughed along with him as the party raged on outside his door. His laugh was infectious, his smile adorable, he had asked her here without presumptions, saw she wasn't enjoying herself and helped her find a way out of the unwanted advances of some of the other party guests. Callum was everything that Claudia told her he was, and then some. It wasn't because he was being a nice guy that she felt her opinion of him shift, it was that he was just being himself. He had been honest and plain spoken from the beginning, a clumsy befuddled artist who always put others first. Something clicked in Rayla's mind.

 

"Ugh," she groaned frustrated with herself, "Just take them off."

 

"What?" Callum looked up, incredulous. While she had been pondering him, he had moved to the desk and was pulling up the show they had been talking about on the laptop.

 

"The pants, lose em," She growled at him, her violet eyes glowing brightly in the black light, her white hair taking a cyanic glow. Her growl turned to a purr, "Before I change my mind."

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

Callum fumbled with his belt, but despite the initial delay, it took him less than ten seconds to step out of his jeans and kick them to the side.

 

Rayla watched her artist and quietly turned the lock to the door. He looked up again, watching her quietly engage the mechanism, he stood waiting, unsure of what came next.

 

Probably hoping it was him.

 

"Don't let this go to your head, Callum." She crossed the room towards him, grabbing the hem of her shirt and lifting it in a fluid motion, as the collar passed her head her cyan hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders. Her skin was pale and toned beneath the armor of everyday clothes. Binding her breasts she wore a black purple bra that shone silky in the black light of Callum's room.

 

Rayla came in close. She grabbed his arms and delicately placed his hands on her hips, the skin hot beneath his touch, sending electric goosebumps across her skin. She could feel the same reaction take place across his skin.

 

Rayla kissed Callum.

 

It wasn't chaste. It wasn't innocent. It was everything other than that. She parted his lips with her tongue and she could taste the whiskey on his breath, the smokey taste and acrid burn mixed with the salty pungent taste of his flesh. She drove him backwards, pushing him against the wall causing him to grunt.

 

By the way his hands went to her hips and pulled her hard against him, Rayla didn't think that he minded the rough-housing all that much. He moaned as she bit his lower lip, pulling it. Her hand plunged into his shorts, taking hold of him. She smirked against her lips, he was already beginning to enjoy this, which gave her a little swirl of erotic pride stirring through her. She gripped him and began slowly moving her hand back and forth. She stopped kissing him and with her free hand pinned him to the wall.

 

Her head was filled with the lust, and based upon the stroking clutching of his hands, he was just as intoxicated on the moment. A heady burning that fogged the mind and enhanced the senses, matched the aromatic incense of his bedroom. Something like cinnamon in summer. The walls were scattered with disoriented sketches. Cyan rectangles of blue surrounding them.

 

Callum's hands twitched at his sides, wanting to take the lead.

 

Rayla wouldn't let him. This was her prey, not his conquest.

 

She let go of him, gripped the excess fabric of his underwear, appreciating the way he strained against the fabric and it left nothing to the imagination, and knelt before him.

 

"Rayla."

 

She ignored him.

 

"Rayla."

 

Damn, he was persistent, but that was part of why she was here now, doing what she was doing. She looked up at him from where she knelt, "What, Callum?"

 

"We don't have to do this." Callum offered her a way out.

 

"Oh, I know." Rayla focused on her prize again, pulling down the waistband of his boxers and watching his erection spring out.

 

Damn thing nearly smacked her in the face. It made her giggle, but she couldn't help the pang of intimidation. Not enough to stop her. She smirked to herself, cursing her inner monologue, gripping him and pointing the generous appendage upwards. Rayla traced the length with her tongue, sending shivers through Callum.

"Don't worry, Callum," Rayla teased, leaning against his hip, looking up at him, "I'll be sure to get mine when I'm through with this."

 

"Wha--Aaaa" Callum started to say something but it was ended when she took him into her mouth. Tasting of salt coupled with the unmistakable musk of him, she started slow, circling with her tongue, letting soft grazings of her teeth send shivers through him. Moving slowly back and forth, forward and back, forward. Back. Forward. Back. The wet noises she made as she breathed were having an effect on Callum as well. She could feel his body tense as she leaned against him, she could feel him swell. She looked up at him, his face caught

in exquisite anguish, trying to see everything and at the same time wanting to close his eyes and only have the sensation of her soft and wet movements.

 

Proudly, thankfully, the moment didn't last long. Still in her mouth, Callum tensed. The saltiness of the anticipated deliverance warned her as much as the way his knees started to lock and quadriceps tense. There was an audible wet pop as she removed him from her mouth and dodged to the side, streams of white substance glowing in the black light missing her and landing haphazardly upon the floor.

 

Callum groaned and twitched, while Rayla watched, eyes wide. He put a hand on her shoulder for support and leaned heavily on the wall

 

"That was awesome."

 

"Good," Rayla stood, wiping a little bit of spittle from her mouth. She grabbed her glass of whiskey concoction, something Soren had called Daddy Issues and took a swig. Her first drink all night, she swished it about her mouth, feeling the purging burn of the liquor scour the taste of penis from her mouth. She swallowed, enjoying the fire of it as its warmth spread across her chest as it went down, "Now it's your turn to perform."

 

Callum seemed suddenly nervous, "What?"

 

Rayla smacked the empty glass down on his desk, taking his hand, and sauntered over to his bed, the lifts on this would be perfect for what she intended. She let go of his hand and lifted herself onto the bed. When she sat on the edge, she slid her torn leggings off taking her matching purple and black underwear down with it. Leaving her with only the purple and black plaid miniskirt as coverage.

 

"What are you doing?" He smirked. His excitement was so cute, so innocent. She kissed him deep, tracing his teeth with her tongue. She was proud of the fact that he looked dazed when she let him go, that his breath came in hitches, that out of the corner of her eye, she could see his glistening flesh twitch again already.

 

"You're going to do that to me." She smirked, confusion raced across his features as he went in for another hungry kiss.

 

She placed a finger on his lips, pushing him back, "No, no, sweetheart, not on the mouth."

 

Realization was sudden and jolting, "I-l've never..." Callum swallowed, "I know I give off this air of a lady's man, all suave and debonair, but I've never gone down on a girl before."

 

"No worries, dummy." Rayla leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair, kissing him again, "No time like the present to learn." She gripped his hair, offering him no escape and led his mouth and it's hungry kisses to between her thighs.

 

Rayla clutched his head as his lips met her, the hungry kisses sending tingles and jolts through her. She leaned back, giving him better access. Her legs opened further of their own volition and she had no intent on stopping them anytime soon. His tongue traced upon hidden surfaces, sensations that numbed her mind and made her forget the party just and the people milling about just below them. His tongue made long and languid strokes.

 

Rayla closed her eyes, leaning back further into the moment, "Yea, nice and slow, sweetie. Not too fast." With her encouragement Callum's ministrations became even slower and even more agonizingly sweet. She guided his hands to clutch her thighs and he gripped them hard, but not unpleasantly.

 

As though this was sign to freely use his hands, he explored of his own instinct grabbing and massaging the muscles of her thighs, inner and outer, tracing his fingertips across the soft and sensitive skin, and then firmly grabbing her ass.

 

Rayla herself relaxed enjoying the work of the exuberant artist and let her own hands trace a path over her skin, enjoying the distracting touches and tickles. She cupped her own breasts and massaged them, breath catching as his tongue traced lines across that sensitive piece of flesh. Her hand shot down and held his head still, "Th-there. Suck there."

 

He obeyed. With enthusiasm, and as it broached too much to bear he wandered off like a distracted puppy, finding other parts to kiss, finding other sensitive spots to trace his warm wet tongue across.

 

First time? Yea, right! She lost herself for a moment, grinding her hips upwards to his waiting lips, feeling the coarseness of his pitiful five o clock shadow stimulate her in ways she didn't anticipate, "Okay." She told him, redirecting his lips. Eyes closed and searching for his hand, she took it from an enticing grab of her ass and guided it to her breast, underneath her bra.

 

Fuck, she should've taken that off.

 

His hand searched the new flesh that she had led him to, feeling, squeezing, twisting slightly. Soft little pressures that could have been unpleasant, but in the heat of the now it was just right.

 

Rayla's breaths came shorter. Her awareness fuzzed. Pressure in her abdomen buzzed and hummed as pleasure built without respite and she had to suppress a groan as his tongue stroking her clit sent her tumbling, tumbling into ecstasy. Tense sensations ran through her legs as she tried to catch her breath, having run a marathon in place. She wrapped her tense legs around him, squeezing him close and felt him dive deeper into his work.

 

Her own hands turned to claws as she gripped the mattress, the softness of the mattress bulging through the strength of her grip.

 

Everything went white, or black, or something in between.

 

Rayla came back to herself and lazily looked at Callum looking up at her from between her thighs. His cheeks gleamed lewdly in the black light, reflecting light off the mixture of her and him. As sound returned to her mind she heard him ask, "So, how'd I do?"

 

Rayla sighed, content, closing her eyes, "Next time, use your teeth."

 

"My teeth?" Callum wiped his mouth on his sleeve and hopped up onto the bed where she lounged. She turned and found her way onto his shoulder, the pressure of her advance pushing him over.

 

She ignored his question, "Blanket." Rayla demanded. She could already feel the steady embrace of the sandman taking her away, and didn't feel like fighting it.

 

Callum pulled her up so that her head was on his pillow, white hair a mess in it's spray across the pillowcase. She let him. A warm blanket found it's way over her and she snuggled into it, pleased to find the scent of Callum emanating from it.

 

"I'll be right back." Callum promised her, kissing her curled hand.

 

She pulled it back into the warmth of the blanket, smiling, "Callum?"

 

"Yea, Rayla?" His voice caressed her name the same way his lips had caressed her, "What's up?"

 

"You can take me to dinner tomorrow." She smirked in her somnolence.

 

"What made you change your mind?" Callum asked, laughing, pulling his pants back on.

 

Even as sleepy as she was, Rayla chuckled, "The black lights. I like them."

 


End file.
